Sketchbook
by scurvaliciousbay
Summary: Just some Solavellan fluff. Miriel Lavellan finds Solas's sketchbook and confronts him about a particular drawing. Dorian makes an appearance.


**Sketchbook**

It was early…too early to be having a meeting about Inquisition things. But alas, Miriel was awake, dressed and in the War Room trying not to fall asleep as Cullen droned on about troop movements. He was awake somehow…or maybe it was because he didn't sleep. Sigh. She had told the man to try and get a couple of hours last night, but it looks like her request had fallen on deaf ears. She would requisition a sleeping aid and spike his food next time. _That_ should help.

"Inquisitor?" Cullen asked, drawing her back to reality.

"Hmm? Oh yes, sure…whatever. Move the troops to…that place. Sounds good," she got out, her mind just not present enough this early. Leliana smiled coyly from the other side of the table.

"Did our apostate friend keep you up last night, Inquisitor?" The Spymaster asked, referring to Solas. _Oh I wish._

"Wouldn't you like to know," Miriel joked. The truth was that no, Solas had not been keeping her up, he had opted to spend his evening painting in the Rotunda. Miriel was just not a social morning person. She could handle them by herself…in her bed…asleep. Yeah.

With the meeting concluded on her word, her advisors collected their things and left the room. As per usual, she was the last to leave, taking a moment to herself to understand the large map of southern Thedas. She lingered on the Dales, strangely wistful and nostalgic.

Her growling stomach interrupted her casual perusal of the map. Miriel moved away from the table, about to head to the kitchens to satisfy her hunger when she saw a small leather book lying on a window sill. She recognized the book almost immediately, it was Solas's sketchbook, something he normally didn't let leave his side. It was odd that it was here…unattended.

A small rush of perverse excitement went through Miriel as she grabbed the book. He was a private man, and she respected that, but he was talented and she delighted in seeing his works. The murals in the Rotunda were stunning and she was eager to see the planning of these works.

She opened the book to the first page where in neat script ' _Property of Solas, please return promptly'_ was written. She ran a hand over his hand writing, lingering on how he curved his letters with neat precision. With a smile, Miriel turned the page to find a rough sketch and description of a plant…all in Elvhen. Interesting, he really was as fluent as he presented, she could barely make out the script other than he was talking about how to properly distill the healing properties out of rashvine.

The next page was a rough outline of a ruined tower, another description on the edges. He had spoken to a spirit of tragedy here, a woeful creature that apparently would not cease crying. She could just imagine his sarcastic retort to the spirit, ' _Yes, that is most tragic_.'

The next couple of pages were more sketches and descriptions of various plants and places. Then she came across a sketch of a hand with a very familiar mark in the palm. Her hand, she realized as she traced the lines. Notes were scribbled all over this page, barely legible let alone written in a language she only knew the basics of. She did make out ' _Dalish_ ' and ' _Fenhedis_ ' though. She frowned, he had judged her for her people even then.

Miriel shook off the disappointment, knowing that he no longer felt that way…especially about her. Oh no, he _really_ liked her now. Her frown turned into a naughty smile as she turned the page to find another sketch of her hand, but this time the sketch included her entire arm. More notes.

Another page and she was greeted with a sketch of her face. She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't unhappy in the picture. Her eyes wide, lips slightly parted with a slight upward tilt at the edges. Her face was lovingly shaded and sculpted in the sketch…except for her Vallaslin, which seemed almost sloppy and ignored. At the bottom of the page there was only one word, ' _Miriel_ '. She smiled, this sketch must have been done in Haven, there were snowflakes in the drawing's hair.

The next sketch was also her, but this time it was more whimsical. She was at Haven, on the roof of the small building he had been staying in. She was on her back, legs bent, knees in the air. She was reading a book, a small smile on her face. Miriel snorted, she remembered climbing up there, nabbing _The Tale of the Champion_ from Varric, just to get some peace and quiet. Apparently Solas had seen her.

The following sketches were mostly of her doing various things. Aiming her bow. Stretching before a fight. Fletching arrows. Eating…pie? Okay…. There were other sketches too, like the one with a fennec and a rabbit chasing each other. Friggin' cute that was.

There was a sketch of Hanal'Ghilan from when they had journeyed to the Exalted Plains. He had focused on the halla's intricate antlers, shading them expertly. Her eyes were also amazingly detailed, and Miriel wondered how close he had gotten to the creature.

She then flipped to a random page where she just about flung the book away from her, she was so startled.

"CREATORS!"

* * *

Solas had somehow misplaced his sketchbook. It was irking him to not have it by his side, he wanted to sketch Cullen trying to teach Cole chess. He searched the Rotunda, the main hall, he even went up to Miriel, _the Inquisitor's_ quarters. Alas, nothing. He searched his memory to where he could have placed the thing when Miriel, _Herald of Andraste_ , walked into the Rotunda.

"Vhenan," he stated in greeting. She gave him an odd look, somewhere between suspicion and amusement. He returned the expression with more suspicion.

"Inquisitor?" He asked and she opened her mouth about to say something, closed it, opened it…closed.

"If you wish to say something, say it," he prompted and she took a deep breath then brought the arm that was behind her forward, sketchbook in hand.

"I found your sketchbook!" She said a little too loudly, her back rigid as she presented the book. Solas raised his eyebrows in curiosity but didn't say anything as he reached for his book. She jerked the book back though, out of his reach.

"Vhenan?"

"I just need you to explain this," she said, opening his book to a page just beyond the middle, AH! Fenhedis! How…how did she find this? He lunged forward to grab the book, but her hunter reflexes had her back stepping quickly.

"That is _private_ , is what that is," he muttered.

"Not when it's _me!_ " She explained, shoving the sketch of her…bent over his desk with her rear end in the air, her legs defined from the tiptoes she was standing on. Her…proportions were exaggerated in an exceedingly lewd way, and he knew that is was perverse for him to draw her so…provocatively. He had to do _something_ , and drawing her this way seemed like a better alternative of him actually bending her over his desk and _doing_ lewd things to her instead of just drawing them.

"It…was drawn for my own…viewing," he explained.

"I heard something potentially scandalous was happening!" A voice suddenly said and Solas closed his eyes in annoyed embarrassment.

"This does not concern you, Pavus," Solas grated and he could just _hear_ the Tevinter's smirk.

"I will be the judge of that. And what do we have here? Oh Maker, that is…Solas, you pervy old man." Dorian strode through the Rotunda as if it too were his space to where Miriel stood still frozen. Gold eyes wide as she watched Dorian inspect the…erhm…sketch.

"Dorian, please-

"It's a pin-up! It's actually very good, not to my taste, of course, but good," the man said as he inspected the work.

"A what?" Miriel squeaked.

"A pin-up. A sketch or panting where the subject's desirable features are exaggerated either by the artist or by clothing to look more sexually appealing," Dorian said casually. He then turned to Solas.

"I never would have guessed you for an ass man, Solas," the Tevinter mage then left the Rotunda, leaving the two elves to sort out the mess. They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. It was profoundly uncomfortable.

"So my ass isn't really that big?" She suddenly asked. Solas paused then let out a bark of laughter.

"No! No, vhenan, your…rear is not that large."

"But you want it to be?" She asked and he shook his head, amused smile still in place.

"Vhenan, stop. Your proportions are perfect," and to make his point clear he pulled her forward, kissing her, his hands dipping down to squeeze her butt appreciatively. She yipped but leaned into the embrace, even sticking her butt out into his hands even more. _Killing me._ He broke away from her and she was smiling. She handed him the sketchbook then turned to leave the Rotunda. Solas brought the book to his desk, looking up when she began to speak.

"And um, Solas? You have a pretty spectacular ass yourself," she wiggled her eyebrows then left the room, putting a little more spring into her step as she walked. Solas shook his head, _she is going to be the death of me._


End file.
